


specious restfulness for the discontent.

by baeofwayhaught



Series: little earp heir. [3]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Character Death, Diapers, F/F, F/M, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15939404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeofwayhaught/pseuds/baeofwayhaught
Summary: dolls is dead, and adult wynonna isn't sure how to handle it. after dropping into her little space, nicole and waverly are left to pick up the pieces. the longer the little stays diapered, the more her Mommy and her sister begin to worry.





	specious restfulness for the discontent.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for those who have continued to read / comment on this series. I’ve really enjoyed writing these oneshots so far, and I’m excited to continue. This one contains spoilers for season 3, so if you haven’t watched yet, don’t read!
> 
> This story involves non-sexual age play, wetting, diapers, and more. If you’re going to hate on the story for those topics being involved, please don’t bother to read. It’s not worth your time or mine!

The days following Dolls’ death were some of the hardest for the trio of women on the homestead. 

Wynonna had dropped almost immediately upon their arrival home from the mountains. Dealing with emotions had never been a skill the adult had learned how to handle properly, but booze on the brain was only going to cause more damage in the end. Rather, she went to the only place where she knew she could hide away the knowledge and fate of her one true, romantic love until she was ready to process it all. 

The entire ride home in Nicole’s police vehicle had been filled with hysterical tears from the heir, just slightly more regulated than they were as she kneeled over the dead body of the only man in her life who had ever cared. Doc had agreed to handle the cremation process, taking Doll’s body in a different vehicle to allow the women a chance to catch up with what had happened emotionally.

Just a few steps into the front entrance of their shared house, the older brunette was already showing signs of a drop. 

“Mommy!” Wynonna whined loudly as she stood on the welcome mat. She’d been tasked with opening the door to the house while Nicole locked the car and Waverly called Doc for a status update. Within seconds, a familiar wetness filled the heir’s jeans, and her crying had turned into tears of discomfort of standing in urine soaked pants rather than cries for the death of her favorite lizard man. There was no denying it any further; the brunette was in her little space. “I went potty!” 

Granted, Nicole was thankful for the distraction. She’d come to know Dolls a lot closer in the last few weeks, especially in regards to her identity in connection to the cult of Bulshar and their massacre of the little music festival she’d attended as a child. Keeping her mind off of his non-existence to this Earth any longer by focusing her attention on the two girls she loved most in the world, her girlfriend and her little, was better than sombering around the topic for now.

Although it wasn’t a perfect scenario to have to change her squirming little out of wet pants and into a clean, white diaper while also attempting to wipe away the remaining tears on her own face, the redhead managed to make it work in the heat of the moment. When the younger was secured within the tapes of her protection, Nicole made quick movement to get her into a comfortable outfit of a long sleeve tee and some knee high socks. It was chilly outside, but leaving the garment around the little’s waist exposed would be necessary for checking when she needed to be changed, especially given the frequency of accidents she continued to have when not protected. Was the trauma of today going to change that? 

It was clear that the heir had dropped younger than her typical age. On a usual, stressed-after-killing-revenants day, Wynonna’s little age hung around the two to three year mark. However, based upon the confusion of how to drink from the sippy cup when it was handed off by Waverly and the fact that she was far more interested in her own socked feet than her favorite yellow sponge on the television screen, Nicole concluded she was dangling somewhere within the range of a one year old. 

They’d only dealt with a Wynonna this young a handful of times, but the more difficult the challenge became, the more of a distraction they all had to avoid thinking or talking about Dolls. In the reality of long-term, it wasn’t the healthiest, but in the moment, it was what they all needed. 

However, something else felt different about the drop as well. At the longest instance, the brunette had stayed dropped for 48 hours maximum; this came after she had killed the seventh and final of the group of revenants that had aided in the killing of Daddy and the taking hostage of Willa for so many years. 

However, with Dolls’ death occurring on Saturday, Nicole had elected to take a few days off the weekdays of work to grieve and look after her girls who were experiencing similar emotions. By the time Thursday had rolled back around, the redhead felt ready to take a shortened patrol round under Nedley’s lead again, but Wynonna wanted nothing but her Mommy all day. Even five days later, she was under in her little state with no signs of emerging into the adult world around her. 

With Waverly taking an until-further-notice break from bartending at Shorty’s until she felt un-grieved enough to return to work, she served as the distraction to get the redhead out of the door and to work while Wynonna bawled her eyes out about it. 

“Come on, baby girl,” Waverly cooed, attempting to make every funny face in the book or use any comical voice she could conjure to get her sister to stop crying. As much as she wanted to bawl her eyes out about Nicole being gone for three, four hours tops too, she needed to stay strong for the diapered woman in front of her. “Mommy will be back in a little bit, but you get to hang out with your awesome Sissy Waverly until then! Just please stop crying.” 

Of course, the crying doesn’t deter until Nicole has returned home later in the afternoon. Waverly runs manically around the homestead, looking for another to appease the tears through offerings of bottles and pacifiers to cuddles with stuffed animals and blankies. However, it wasn’t until the flash of red entered the little’s vision that she was finally smiling again, albeit a little snottier and flush faced. 

They realized it wasn’t healthy for Wynonna to be confined to her little space for so long, and with so much time passing since anyone had seen a glimpse of the adult emerge, the duo of girlfriends began to worry she’d be stuck in her younger mindset forever. 

The solution they’d concocted after days of planning was a drinking party. Doc was invited over, a fresh bottle of brandy adorned in his arms as he walked through the front door with a new welcome mat greeting him, along with Jeremy. The plan consisted of enticing adult Wynonna out of her little space by seeing how much fun the other adults were having grieving their former friend through the avenue of semi-alcoholism. 

They each brandished their own glass around the dinner table. Nicole and Waverly opted for simple shots as they didn’t plan on drinking much, just in case the plan did backfire and the little girl became needier as the night went on. Doc, on the other hand, was planning on drinking straight from his old canteen, the same he used when Wyatt had passed. Jeremy, still in his own area of shock, drank right from the bottle.

Slightly intoxicated adults did nothing to phase little Wynonna. Nicole had carried her to the dining room, sitting her diapered butt on the floor next to table where they all sat, but within no time at all, the younger had crawled her way back to the living room and become fascinated amongst the varieties of scattered toys. After a few minutes, the redhead went to retrieve her again, this time merely sitting her in her own lap as she drank a small shot of beer. 

The younger struggled against the restrictive, forced cuddles as small whines of protest boiled up from her throat; as if by instinct or by the virtues of previous experience with Wynonna, the cop knew this meant her little was feeling nervous. The only time the brunette got squirmy during cuddles was when a spurt of anxiety hit; to combat any negative emotions of the younger, Nicole stopped drinking, merely opting to make conversation with the other adults at the table as she lightly bounced Wynonna in her lap. Soon, the struggle for release dissipated, and the little melted into her Mommy’s arms.

However, by the time Doc and Jeremy were ready to leave for the night, there still had been no sign of Wynonna escaping from the regions of little space. Nicole gave her a quick bath, another set of cuddles, and a kiss goodnight before the girl was officially snoring. They’d need to concoct a new plan the next day, and obviously it couldn’t involve attempting to make adult Wynonna jealous of all the ‘fun’ they were having. If anything, it would be to just survive another day with the heir in little space.

However, upon waking up, Wynonna had finally had enough. Everything within her had wanted to claim her code word for aging back up in order to take at least one sip of alcohol with her friends in memory of their fallen comrade; lord knows she had been missing the taste as she went through small peaks of withdrawal in her younger mindset. However, she hadn’t felt ready yet, until today. 

Waverly and Nicole were still sleeping in their bed when she had tiptoed out of the nursery, so she lightly shook the redhead in an attempt to not wake her sister as well. “Nicole?” she whispered before moving to the more degrading versions. “Office Haught Stuff?” 

Based on instinct, Nicole rolled over with sleep still surrounding her in a cloud, shushing a simple, “You’re okay, baby girl. Mommy’s got you,” before her brain caught up with what her ears had just heard. Eyes finally opened wide enough to spot Wynonna standing up perfectly fine, a soaked diaper hanging around her hips. “Wynonna?” 

“Red,” she confirms with a nod of the head. “Though, I am going to need help with a change.” 

Just like they always did when the little reemerged into her normal, adult space of mind, the cop made quick work to change the brunette out of the dirty diaper and into a clean pull-up. The potty training had made little to no progress, especially considering the age that Wynonna had been most recently projecting, and some form of protection was necessary to keep her from ruining all her demon-hunting jeans. 

She wasn’t quite herself for the next few hours, but who could be when they’d spent nearly two and a half weeks babbling nonsensically, crying their eyes out whenever their Mommy or sister wasn’t in the room, and being unable to feed themselves due to only craving liquids from bottles? She also was finally dealing with everything relating to her now-dead lover.

Dolls. 

All the emotions she’d managed to hide and bury down while in little space bubbled back to the surface, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t drink or try to hide away in the confinements of her younger ruse. Instead, she sat down and cried. She cried for all the wasted opportunities for sarcasm with the lizard man that she bit her tongue in the moment for. She cried for all the sweet, romantic sexual encounters they’d performed together in the heats of passion she’d never share with another person. She cried for the connection they’d somehow stumbled upon in each other’s dark lives. She cried for the past. She cried for the present. She cried for the future. 

For the first time since Daddy died, Wynonna cried tears of grief. 

As much as being little was a form of stress relief for her, there were moments, like this, where it could only cause more damage by putting off the inevitable. When she was ready to use her little space healthily, it’d be there for her. For now, though, being an adult was the more difficult, road less traveled that she needed to take in order to remember Xavier for all he was worth. That revelation, to all three women in the homestead, was golden.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have any story ideas for what you’d like to see next in this series of oneshots, make sure to leave a comment. I want to write one about a little Waverly following the events in ‘Jolene’, so let me know if you’d read that, and I'm brainstorming some stories that are not related to age-play. Would anyone read those as well? Constructive criticism is also very welcomed.


End file.
